


for we are bound by symmetry

by taketheblanket



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Amputation Kink, Bottom Genji Shimada, Breathplay, Genji has a cunt, Jealousy, M/M, Mentions of McGenji, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Penetrative Sex, Porn with Feelings, Prosthesis Removal, Robot Sex, Sibling Incest, Top Hanzo Shimada, Trans Genji Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 01:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14069508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taketheblanket/pseuds/taketheblanket
Summary: Hanzo still struggles with jealousy.  To prove he has nothing to fear, Genji makes himself vulnerable to Hanzo in a way no other gets to experience.





	for we are bound by symmetry

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Please read the tags ^^^^ 
> 
> This is my first Overwatch fic. Please enjoy!

When Genji opens the door to his suite, he detects Hanzo right away. He can see his form through the wall, a digital projection in his mind, the shape of his older brother in cerulean, meditating cross legged on Genji’s bed.

“Hello, brother,” he says as he rounds the corner. 

Hanzo opens his eyes and meets his electronic gaze. Genji releases his helmet with a hiss, removes the mask. When their eyes connect, both brothers bite back smiles of relief, the relief they always feel when they end up alone in a room together. It’s been that way since they were kids. Being alone with Hanzo always felt like he was recharging, his systems rebooting-- puns utterly intended. 

But as children, Hanzo was careful and cold, even when they were alone. Now, Hanzo stands, takes Genji’s hand, and softly lays a kiss on the place at which his shuriken emerge.

Genji rolls his eyes, but never would he complain about the new Hanzo aloud. 

Just like Hanzo never complains about the new Genji. 

“You told me you were off at five,” Hanzo states sharply, dropping Genji’s hand and pacing towards the window. 

He faces away from Genji and the young brother watches him as he rolls his neck, sets his shoulders, the dragon scales on his left arm rippling in threat. Genji knows this posture. His word are staccato when he speaks again. 

“I have been here waiting.” 

_Aaand_ the old Hanzo is back. 

“If you _carried your comm_ ,” Genji insists. 

“Do not lecture me, little brother,” Hanzo says, facing him. 

“Like we’re _all supposed to_ ,” Genji continues, trying to close the space between them. “you would have known I had to stay late and help Jesse with something.”

Hanzo grunts in distaste and wheels away from him, crossing the room. He looks pissed off already and Genji cannot help himself. 

“He always wants something, the cowboy,” Genji continues. “I wonder what his deal is.” 

Hanzo spins around to face at Genji. Hanzo glares. Genji smirks. 

“ _Anija_ ,” Genji cooes at him, leaning towards his face which is wrinkled in disgust, “It’s been a long day. Kiss me, already.” 

Despite his apparent mood, Hanzo does as he’s told. He steps up to Genji, his arms snaking behind his body to pull him closer. Carbon fiber and metal alloy align with Hanzo’s flesh and bone. They kiss, soft and slow for several moments, Hanzo’s hands creeping over Genji’s body and unfastening protective plates with practiced fingers, leaving Genji hyper-aware of every touch over his exposed sensors. 

“Are you really mad, Anija?” he asks breathlessly. 

He ignores the question, walking Genji back to the bed. He pushes him down into the mattress with gentle but unyielding hands. Genji doesn’t fight it, lays back willingly as Hanzo straddles his thighs. 

“I have to keep you waiting sometimes,” Genji says. “If I am too easy, you’ll get bored.”

“Untrue,” Hanzo replies. “You’ve always been easy for me. Do I look bored to you?” 

Hanzo unties his obi and his shrugs his kimono away. With little ceremony he pulls out his cock and pumps it in Genji’s direction, already fully hard and eager, despite his jealousy. 

“Definitely not,” he giggles. 

Hanzo leans forward, his mass heavy on Genji’s thighs, cock bouncing boldy from his groin, and he continues to remove the outer plates of Genji’s armor. _Undressing him_ , tossing the scale-like pieces to the floor, leaving Genji over-sensitive against the sheets. His artificial muscles are composed of smooth spans of a durable, soft material, intertwined in an intricate web. Layered with hundreds of thousands of sensors, they are a deep, dusky pink, appearing just like a human body may look, skinned and drained of its blood. Genji wonders if his brother has grown to like the way he looks without his armor on, for Hanzo gazes down at him with open enrapture on his face and his heavy hands linger as each piece is removed, searing hot in comparison to the temperature of the air. Left for last, he removes the metal crescent that snaps between his thighs. It sings when Hanzo sends it clattering to the floor 

Genji watches his brother’s face intently as Hanzo studies him, running his hands up Genji’s thighs, invasive fingers immediately probing at the edge of Genji’s artificial cunt. He’s inspecting him, looking for signs of prior use today, running calloused fingertips across the black silicone folds and tracing his shape. Genji bites his cheek to keep himself from smirking. As far as today is concerned, he is untouched, and his body is responding to Hanzo’s presence eagerly. Cybernetically connected to the lust in his conscience, Genji’s hole leaks slippery green fluid in anticipation. 

Hanzo doesn’t make him wait. 

Positioning himself between Genji’s spread thighs, he brings his thick cockhead to his entrance. Hanzo’s fingers dig into his hips as he drags Genji’s robotic body into his lap, his cock plunging inside with little ceremony. His soft inner walls resist the penetration, deeply hidden plates undulate and pulse around his erection, his body automatically adjusting to Hanzo’s girth. Waves of pleasure roll through Genji within seconds, and he moans in the debauched way he knows his brother both loves and hates to hear. 

Slowly, Hanzo lowers himself over him, laying his open mouth on Genji’s neck and panting over his skin. Falling still, adjusting to being intertwined once more, the dragons sigh in unison. 

“Why don’t you want to share?” Genji whispers to him, petting the back of his head, untying the ribbon that holds his hair back. He rocks his face back and forth beneath the gentle cascade of salt-and-pepper hair. Genji shakes it out with dexterous metal fingers and Hanzo begins to relax, his body soft and heavy over him in the bed. Genji kisses him tenderly on the temple, and then clenches his cunt around Hanzo’s cock, brutally tight, a reminder. 

“This body can take a beating, Anija.” 

Hanzo lifts himself with an animalistic growl. He slams himself into Genji, pounding repeatedly, fucking through the resistance, fucking him back open. Genji cries out in joy, spreading his legs and angling his hips so Hanzo may dig deeper inside of him, each thrust harder than the one before. He is programmed to enjoy every movement inside of his artificial cunt, lined with hundreds of thousands of synthetic neurons triggering pure chemical release in his human brain, but unlike when he was human, Genji feels the pleasure all over from the start. His computers imitate, replicate, echo the sensations on an endless loop back to his cunt. The pleasure build exponentially, blooming like a lotus from his core. 

“You’ll never, _hnn_ \-- get to be the only, _ah_... one to touch me,” Genji says, his words broken with his pleasure. 

There have been so many others. _Hundreds_ , even. Sex had always been important to Genji. By now they all seem to blend together, every man he met as a castaway, and the all of those back in Hanamura, that Genji sought whenever Hanzo’s shame sent him away one too many times. He would go on to destroy the empire for seeding that hate. While his new body had helped him finally put an end to the family that broke his brother, with the mission complete, he grew disgusted with his weaponized self. In an attempt to help him cope, Angela asked him what he missed the most about being human and in a fatalistic moment of honesty, Genji chose to be candid with his doctor-friend. 

_Sex._

She had an idea. 

Angela outfitted him with a new body, still a weapon, but this time including something of her own design. It was built to experience physical pleasure, something that could respond to a touch, a scratch, or a kiss, something that could accept a lover, and in that way, reciprocate in turn. If he wanted something more... “classically male” she had said, it would take several months to develop. On the verge of suicide, Genji accepted what was instantly available instead.

In the years to follow, Genji would wander the world, adrift and indulgent, sleeping with any man curious enough to fuck a robot with a cunt.

Each time he took a stranger, Hanzo was on his mind. If he was not in Japan, sometimes Genji didn’t resist the desire to moan the honorific, always on the tip of his tongue. _Anija, Anija_. He thought of nothing but presenting this new body to him, hoping selfishly, that perhaps, if Hanzo learned to love it, so too could he. 

Though he never mentioned it to Mercy (who isn’t Hanzo’s biggest fan), Genji knew it was the perfect body to share with him. No preparation necessary, little time for his older brother to decide what they were doing was wrong. From time to time, Genji misses his cock, but Hanzo never let him top anyway, and he knew this new form would allow him to consume his brother in the way he constantly ached for, to this day. 

And so, with time, Genji found a mission once more. 

He went looking for Hanzo. And he found him, as broken and windblown as Genji had been himself. He watched from a distance for years, until he felt it was finally time to reveal himself and reclaim his brother as his. 

“I should be the only one to touch you,” Hanzo growls. 

“You gave up your shot at that when we were boys, Han--” 

In a split-second, Hanzo has a fistful of Genji’s hair. He shoves him flat onto the bed, pinning him there. His other hand lands on Genji’s throat, not yet robbing him of oxygen, but influential nonetheless. Genji loves it rough. He loves to feel his brother’s anger and he moans in an eager way that makes Hanzo punch into him again, cock, and hand, and fist. It’s relieving to feel _his_ Hanzo, his dragon of a brother. Hanzo does not speak to Genji’s statement, because he knows he can’t, because he knows he doesn’t really deserve to be touching him at all. 

“You’ll always be my favorite,” Genji whispers to him, words quiet beneath his choking grip. “Am I your favorite lover, Hanzo? It does not count if i have been your only.” 

Hanzo does not take the bait. Instead, he loosen his grip on Genji’s locks, bruising fingers releasing his airway to stroke lovingly down his neck, in a tender way that could suggest either answer. 

His fingers ride lower, to the place that Genji’s human skin gives way to artificial flesh, polymer muscles, synthetic ligature. Genji is programmed to feel every touch, every change in air pressure, temperature, intent. He writhes gently beneath Hanzo’s hands as they drift, wide palms encompassing his shoulders. His thumbs trace the shape of the joint, smooth and round. He flips two hidden latches, before shoving his thumbs inside. 

Genji whimpers with programmed pain, but his arms give way easily, popping free of the socket with a mechanical hiss. His fingers go slack where he had been gripping Hanzo’s biceps, immediately disconnected from his processors, numb to touch. Genji watches him thoughtfully. When they were first reunited, Hanzo claimed to hate omnics. Now, he tenderly and systematically detaches both of Genji’s upper limbs, disconnecting wires with a reverent touch. He gently lays his prosthetic arms on the floor. 

“Still power-hungry, I see,” Genji teases lightly. 

“It’s a shame I cannot remove your mouth,” Hanzo muses in reply. 

Genji chuckles, taking no offense. Hanzo begins to roll into him once more. Unable to embrace him without his arms, Genji sits up enough to bury his face in Hanzo’s neck. He kisses him there, tastes his skin while Hanzo pistons inside of him. Rid of his arms, the feedback loop of sensation returns to the pounding in his cunt in shorter cycles, and Genji begins to whine earnestly, back bent in an arch over the bed. 

“But I would miss my sparrow sing.” 

“ _God_ ,” he sighs. His brother’s words alight his soul, making him feel both hot and vulnerable in a instant. Genji squeezes his cunt around Hanzo, desperate to keep his hard cock buried as deeply inside of him as possible, but his older brother does not stop, fucking into the brutally tight hole. He is panting, a look of pleasured concentration on his face as he enjoys every moment of punishment Genji gives him. 

Slowly, Genji slackens his grip, his cunt fluttering around his cock, drawing an involuntary moan from Hanzo as pain recedes to leave pleasure in its wake. The older brother grabs him at the hips, keeping their bodies joined as he sits back on his heels, dragging Genji’s upper body across the bed. Hanzo rolls into him smoothly when he has him there, watching his cock plunge in and out of the artificial cunt, black silicone swallowing him eagerly, bright green fluid coating his length. Genji watches his face in amusement. Hanzo looks like he’s in love with it. 

“You feel so good for me,” Hanzo says in awe. “It seems I need you all the time.”

“I used to be the one to beg,” Genji laughs softly. 

He recalls an adolescence in Hanamura: a vivid memory of padding barefoot down the hallway at night to sneak into the Young Master’s room and seek his love. Every few weeks, Genji would succeed, but most of the time, Hanzo sent him away, angry and ashamed. 

How different things have become; for the fifth time this _week_ , Hanzo has come to Genji’s bed. 

“Just look at you now, Hanzo.” 

His hips stutter, and then pause. Hanzo tips his forehead down, his hair shrouding his face. Genji sits up, longing to brush the hair aside, his arms detached and useless from the floor. 

“Otouto…” he says. “You must understand.”

His voice is soft. 

“It is not the change to you… it is the change in me.” 

“What change is that, brother?” Genji asks. 

Hanzo does not answer with words. Instead he leans forward and kisses him on the mouth tenderly. His heavy hands come to lay on his chest beside his empty shoulder sockets, and Hanzo presses him down into the mattress. He breaks the kiss before Genji can reach deeper, but Hanzo’s open mouth crawls down his jaw line to his neck, pressing a kiss every inch along the way. Genji lifts his lips to his ear, kisses him there softly before whispering.

“Tear me apart, Anija.”

Hanzo sits up with a sharp inhalation. He pulls out of Genji, his cock neon and slick, bobbing heavily in the space between them. He grabs Genji and rolls him over on the bed, which is relatively easy to do without his elbows to stop him.

Hanzo’s hands skate over his back, over the swell of his ass, and lower, to the edge of his upper thighs, where he digs his fingers into an invisible seam and Genji’s legs unlock with a hiss. Hanzo opens a hidden panel on each of his inner thighs, loosens the set screws that allow him to gently detach each leg. Genji watches as he lowers each one tenderly to the floor, cradled in his arms like a child. He turns his face into the blankets and shuts his eyes. Unable to close his legs, his cunt leaks generously onto the bedspread. 

A few moments pass, where Genji lay immobile on the bed. He listens to the cadence of his brother’s breathing. The first time they did this, this is the point at which Hanzo began to cry. This time, sorrow has been set aside and his heavy hands land on Genji’s waist, before he is lifted easily into Hanzo’s lap. Genji lets his head roll onto Hanzo’s shoulder as his brother lowers his dismantled bodied onto his cock, panting and groaning eagerly as he presses himself inside once more. 

“We are always what we’ve been,” Genji says after a moan, speaking the words against Hanzo’s neck. “Just now, you are free.” 

Less half his mass in the form of his limbs, Hanzo looms twice as large. Hanzo lifts and lowers his torso on his cock a few times, grunting in pleasure, before clutching Genji’s body to his chest and fucking desperately into what’s left of him. His arms tighten around his lessened frame until he is suffocating. If Genji passes out, his stabilizers will keep his brain alive until he can breathe again, and so he lets Hanzo ride that line, squeezing every inch of air from the small remainder of his true human flesh. 

“Onii-chan!” Genji whispers, unable to find enough breath to speak. 

Hanzo chuckles darkly, once. He mouths at the human-skin on Genji’s neck while he pumps up into him, leaving marks on the one part of him that can’t be scrubbed and repaired at maintenance in the morning. Genji’s lips hang slack at Hanzo’s ear, stifled gasps and whines barely audible as Hanzo uses him. 

He wants to wrap his legs around Hanzo’s waist, he wants to shove his fingers into his brother’s hair, but even if he had his limbs, he would be incapable of either, his pleasure as intense and overwhelming as it is designed to be. Hanzo’s hand slides down the sensitive sensors on his stomach, and lower, to rub three fingers over the soft, raised bulb at the front of his silicone folds, from which his pleasure blooms. He is reaching his finish, the panels on the top of his shoulders pop open, fans whirring desperately in an attempt to cool his system down. 

When Genji peaks, his vision goes black and all of the mechanics in his body fall still except for his cunt, which grips hard around his cock and milks the orgasm from him in return. Hanzo’s arms slacken, and Genji sucks in a breath, his vision clearing. He presses his face into Genji’s neck as he releases inside of him, and there he call feel Hanzo’s cheeks are wet with tears. His cunt begins to burn with a request for refraction, but Hanzo remains pulsing and hard, as deep inside of him as he could possibly be. As Genji’s system tries catch back up, his fans begin to purr once more, body vibrating gently in Hanzo’s lap. Genji pants in pain. 

Very, very slowly, Hanzo picks Genji up, and there he has a chance to catch his breath, entirely suspended in his hands, poised above his brother’s slimy wet cock. 

“ _Hentai…_ ” Genji murmurs to him, a satisfied smirk cut in half across his shoulder. 

Hanzo gently lay Genji’s immobile body on the bedspread, face down for a moment, before flipping him onto his back. Genji stares up at the ceiling, still seeing stars as pleasure signals continue to echo through his circuit boards. Hanzo disappears to the restroom, presumably to wipe his tears, wash his dick and, as he can now hear, take a piss.

Genji waits.

When he returns, Hanzo has a warm, damp cloth. Starting with his cunt, he carefully cleans away sticky lubrication. He runs the cloth over his mound repeatedly. The gentle motion triggers an automatic process, and another sharp wave of pleasure rockets through Genji’s over-sensitive system as his cunt automatically pushes Hanzo’s cum from his body. Normally he would save this for later, when he’s had a chance to recover, but Hanzo likes to do it himself, and Genji sighs raggedly beneath the onslaught of stimuli. 

When he’s clean, Hanzo begins to reassemble his little brother. Each limb handled with care, Hanzo reconnects wires and rethreads joints. As each limb pops back into place, Genji’s synthetic nervous system begins to fire, and the rest of the bed materializes beneath him. Hanzo always moves slowly, studies him with a critical eye, like he’s attempting to unravel the Angela’s ingenious design, like he has a responsibility to understand how Genji works. Already, he can dismantle and rebuild him with relative ease. Hanzo handles his geometry with the same reverence that he does his bow and arrows. 

He wonders if his brother ever thinks about running away from Overwatch. In his fantasies, does Hanzo bring his Sparrow along? 

“I should be the only one to touch you,” Hanzo says again, sinking Genji’s thigh into the socket.

Restored, Genji’s body begins to glow green once more. In a way, he thinks, Hanzo is the only one that really touches him. At least, he is the only one Genji truly lets himself come apart for. No one else has even removed his outermost armor (currently in a heap on the ground), let alone his limbs. But Genji doesn’t have to point that out, because Hanzo already knows, and it does not seem to heal the ache in his brother’s heart. 

“I told you,” he replies. “It’s too late for that.” 

Hanzo gives him a self-deprecating smile. Taking advantage of his returned mobility, Genji reaches for him. Arms and legs wrap around his soft flesh and bone, fingers lacing through his long hair. He pulls Hanzo down onto the mattress, crawling atop his naked body and tucking his head beneath his chin. 

They lay there in the silence for a moment, enjoying each other. Genji’s fingertips walk slowly across dark blue scales, Hanzo’s fingertips trace Genji’s lips. After a few moments, Genji is the first to speak. 

“He finds you attractive,” he says. “Jesse McCree.” 

Hanzo grunts, his body stiffening slightly beneath him. 

“He wants to watch us fuck--”

“Absolutely not.” 

“--either you let him watch us fuck,” Genji continues, undeterred. “Or I will make you watch while he fucks me.” 

Hanzo does not even breathe. Genji’s head lay still on his chest. 

“You owe me,” he whispers in Japanese. 

A beat passes. Then another. Genji wishes silently that brother would learn to shake his jealousy. Jesse is not a threat. No one is. No one else completes the circle of his soul. No matter how many lovers Genji takes. He wrestles a leg in between Hanzo’s, tangling their bodies together, as if to remind him they will always be two dragons, effortlessly intertwined. 

Hanzo’s chest begins to rise and fall once more. Thick arms wrap around Genji’s shoulders, holding him close.

“Fine,” he replies. “The cowboy can _watch_.” 

 

_to be continued_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ;;;  
> I understand this is probably not how Genji's body works... but for the sake of kink, let's suspend our disbelief. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story! Come tell me so on twitter @taketheblanket (request to add)
> 
> The title of this fic comes from "Red Right Ankle" by the Decemberists. I have a [Hanzo/Genji playlist on spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/yi5rj9vo7o9231si2b4d44h1l/playlist/6SRvhHnl0xEX2Y2yWRyy47?si=OuG-9GiTTKCWX5-7FZInsg)


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